Chapter 17 - THE FINAL JUDGMENTVance knelt on the cold marble floor of the grand foyer, his expensive grey suit torn, blood dripping from a cut above his eyebrow. He looked up at Matteo and Clara, realizing the terrifying depth of his miscalculation.
"You can't do this," Vance choked out, trembling as Bruno stepped closer, sniffing the air near his collar. "The international council... they'll retaliate. My death won't go unnoticed."
Matteo walked slowly down the marble steps, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He stopped a few feet away, looking down at Vance as if he were an insect on the pavement.
"The international council consists of six men," Matteo said softly. "Two of them are my uncles, one owes me a blood debt from Palermo, and the other three are currently reading my revised terms of trade. None of them care about a mercenary who couldn't read a simple room."
"Please," Vance whispered, staring up at Clara. "Mrs. Moretti... tell him to spare me. I'll leave the country. I'll disappear."
Clara looked down at the man who had tried to burn her world to the ground. There was no fear left in her heart—only absolute, unshakeable power.
"You should have stayed in the shadows, Mr. Vance," Clara said quietly. "My husband told you the first time: loyalty is bought with blood. You tried to pay with treachery."
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Matteo raised his hand, signaling Leo. "Put him on the cargo ship to South America. Share a cabin with Grant. You two can reminisce about the good old days."
Vance’s face drained of all color as he was dragged away screaming into the night.
